Meant To Be
by Ashlee1
Summary: It takes a good knock on the head to get Harm to finally pull his head out of his six.


Meant to Be By: Ashlee  
  
Disclaimer: I do not, nor, from the looks, of it will I ever own JAG or any characters affiliated with it. Why, you ask? Because David Bellisario laughed at my fifty dollars and twenty five cent offer. Oh well, take 'em then!! See if I care!! huffs  
  
Author's Note: This little diddy was inspired after I watched "Each Of Us Angels" and asked myself 'Is Harm an idiot in every life?' The result was this little piece of fiction. Started on February 5, 2003 and finished on March 19, 2003.  
  
Spoilers: None really  
  
Category: HMR  
  
Rating: um..I guess PG for minor swear words, I don't even count them, but I guess I should.  
  
Archiving: Please ask first  
  
Summery: It takes a good knock on the head to get Harm to finally pull his head out of his six.  
  
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Have you ever felt like you've done something before? Felt a connection to the people in your life that transcends any rational explanation, like you've known them forever? That's how I feel about the people around me, but it's only just hit me. Looking around me, I feel like I have some sort of weird other-worldy connection to these people. It sounds very new age, and I'm not a new age kind of guy, but it's something that I can't deny, and I think that perhaps it has come to my attention for a reason. Maybe it's God, or some higher power, smacking me on the back of the head and telling me to get my shit together once and for all.  
  
It all started about a week ago. I was walking in downtown D.C. doing research for a case that I was going to be presenting. I had to go to the Library of Congress and look up a few things. Anyway, I was walking back and looking over my notes. I started to cross the street when I felt someone grab me. I was yanked back and fell, hitting my head. I was knocked out for a while, and during that time I had this weird dream about me, Mac, Harriet, Bud, the Admiral, Tiner, Webb, and Sturgis. The weird part was that it was set in a totally different era, during the Revolutionary War, and we were just as connected then as we are now. We all had different names of course, and though I don't remember the details, it all seemed too real.  
  
The paramedics arrived and I came to, I was a little disoriented so they took me to a local hospital and released me after I insisted that I was fine and would call a taxi to take me home. Ever since then I've been having these sort of dreams, all of us with different names in different situations, though we all always seem to be tied to the military, and Webb is always some sort of government agent, though the agency varies.  
  
At first I thought I was loosing it, that the knock on my head was causing me to hallucinate or something, but then I was home that Friday channel surfing thanks to some leave time I had on the books, when I came across some Discovery Channel show about past life hypnosis. I was glued to the set for the three hour special, and things started to become clear. You know that feeling that you have that you were meant to be here, that there was something that you were meant to do, but it's just beyond your grasp and you can't quite figure it out? Well, it became clear that that's what these dreams were about. I was here trying to tie up some business that I haven't been able to in my past lives.  
  
Yes, I know how radical that sounds, and I know that it definitely doesn't sound like something I, clean cut Harmon Rabb Jr., would believe in. I don't even know why I believed it, but it was like something in me clicked, the proverbial light went off and I realized why everyone seemed so familiar to me, why my whole life seemed to be some sort of weird dajavu. Like I was reliving my life over and over in different settings until I got things right, did what I was meant to do.  
  
I went out right then and there to the nearest Barnes and Noble and started pulling books on the subject off the shelves. I went to the coffee shop in the far corner of the store, bought be a large Latte and got to reading. After about three hours the clerk finally told me to buy something or leave. I bought five books and went home and dived in head first. By the end of the weekend I was convinced that my subconscious was trying to get me to accomplish my mission by allowing me to view my past lives. Dreams are, they say, the work of the subconscious.  
  
Come Monday, I was sitting in my office staring blankly at the motions for some preliminary hearing or another when I decided that I needed help figuring out just what these past life visions meant, and what I was supposed to be trying to accomplish. I picked up the phone book and started looking through the yellow pages. It was there that I saw the add for a psychologist that I had heard of before, a Dr. Karl Knight. I wasn't sure where I had heard the name, but I called him anyway. He explained to me that he did indeed perform hypnosis and that, while it wasn't a recognized by the Psychological community as being a conventional form of therapy, he believed that it worked in most cases. I quickly agreed and set up an appointment for Wednesday.  
  
Monday and Tuesday nights passed with more dreams, and the days were spent sitting in my office filling out paperwork and actively avoiding the people around me. I knew I was acting strange, but I didn't want to have to explain why. The last thing I needed was the Admiral putting me on a psychological profile. Anyway, Wednesday finally came around and I rushed out of the office at one thirty throwing a lame explanation about meeting a client at Harriet.  
  
I arrived promptly at two, and Dr. Knight greeted me. He was like every other psychologist that I had ever met, quiet, well groomed, wore glasses, and very polite. I smiled and shook his hand. I took a seat in the chair that he indicated and we began with my history. We finally began discussing the issues that had brought me here, and I explained to him in great details the fall and the resulting dreams.  
  
The good doctor listened intently and scribbled on his legal pad ever few moments. He nodded as I talked about the people and the different setting of the dreams. Finally he asked a question. "In these dreams, Harm, are there any other consistencies other than the people with whom you interact?"  
  
I think hard. "Well, I, the Admiral, Bud, and Sturgis are always in the military. Mac usually is as well either that or a member of her family is. Webb is always part of a government agency. Harriet always differs, but she's always there."  
  
The doctor nods and scribbles again. "How far back do the settings in these dreams date?"  
  
"The earliest one was in the Revolutionary War."  
  
Again he nods and scribbles. "So, about two hundred twenty-eight years. Now, what kind of relationships do you usually have with the others?"  
  
I close my eyes and try to think. "That's the funny thing, I can't really remember. I know they're there, I know the setting, I know our roles, but I can't make out the emotional attachment. I know I feel it when I'm dreaming, but when I wake up it vanishes."  
  
Once again Doctor Knight nods. I think the nodding is taught in graduate school as a way of pacifying patients. "Very well, well I think that's what we will need to start with. It's emotions that connect us, both now and in the past, and perhaps if we can figure out what emotions are drawing you in and are recurrent we can figure out what it is your subconscious is trying to say."  
  
I nod my agreement. "So, how does this work?" I ask, a little uneasy.  
  
"Well, it works best if you are comfortable. Hypnosis isn't me taking control of your mind, its more like a type of meditation, but with someone here helping you to extract certain memories or thoughts. It's a calming of the mind which allows it to focus on the thoughts resting untouched in the recesses of your mind. These thoughts are usually pushed aside because they are painful, unproductive, or just put on the backburner while more current and pressing matters take over the conscious. Hypnosis relaxes the mind so that these thoughts can be brought out and expressed. Usually, after this has been done patients feel much better."  
  
"Okay," I say, and walk over to an old, plush, gray couch. "Do you mind if I lie down?"  
  
"Of course not, I'll just pull my chair over. Now, during this session we are going to call up the emotions, we will not touch on the past lives. You are obviously remembering them and they are, therefore, not what we are after. Now, I'm going to talk very softly. I want you to take deep breaths and relax, okay?"  
  
I can already here is voice take on a soothing monotone. I lie back on the couch and begin to breathe slowly as his voice rattles on. I can't make out the words, but they are soothing none the less. I'm in a half sleep, the kind where you are groggily aware of your surroundings, but can't quite make them out, nor do you care to, when the doctor speaks to me. "You have been having dreams, and we are here to find the emotional connections to people in your life through these dreams." The doctor says, his voice more forceful now, but still oddly calming. "In these dreams what is your relationship with the man you know as Webb?"  
  
I'm kind of foggy and am surprised how detached my voice sounds, like it isn't coming from me. "It's a rivalry of sorts, but at the same time we are both working toward the same end. He's very secretive and has what I perceive as hidden agenda's and goals, but in the end he's always there to help. It's hard to explain."  
  
There's a pause, and he asks another question. "What is your relationship with the Admiral?"  
  
"He's always a leader, either morally, physically, or by role. I look up to him, he's my mentor and one of the few people whose judgment I can trust. I respect him, and he respects me."  
  
Again a pause and he asks the same question of Sturgis. "Sturgis is my best friend and confidant. He's always there for me, and I for him. We do everything together, and we are always in the military together."  
  
The doctor again pauses. "And what about Bud and Harriet?"  
  
"Bud tends to be timid about his talent, but is always a very charismatic and important player. He has potential and is either working towards that, or is at the top of his game. He tends to not have as much confidence in him self as everyone else does, but he can hide it well most of the time. He's very loyal, and someone who can always be counted on. Harriet is always a caring mother type figure. She usually has a role as a nurse, housewife, or something like that. She's someone that I know has my well being, and everyone else's, is in the forefront of her mind."  
  
There's a short lapse in time before the good doctor asks his last question. "And what about Mac?"  
  
I pause, in my haze I can feel myself digging for the thoughts, but they seem just out of reach. "I.I.don't know."  
  
I hear the doctor shift, though it doesn't really register. "This Mac, what roles does she play in these visions?"  
  
"She uh, she can be a soldier or a nurse, or any variation there in. She's been a housewife and a bar tender."  
  
"And what tends to be your interaction during these times?"  
  
I pause again, but I feel the knowledge within reach and I go for it. "We flirt, interact, but nothing ever seems to come of it. There's always something there stopping us. A husband, a boss, regulations, death, fear, anything you can imagine." The images start flashing through my mind, and the feelings that I know I must feel during these dreams fill me. "The first time I look at her I always know that there's something meant to be between us. I know we belong together and I.." I pause and even in my subconscious state I realize the profoundness of what I am about to say. "I.I love her from the minute I see her. I look into her eyes and I know that she is who I am meant to be with, always, forever."  
  
The doctor scribbles a little something and I can feel myself coming out of my haze, the doctor looks up and says. "Harm, sit up. I want you to talk to me." His voice is forceful and it pulls me the rest of the way out. When he sees that I am back he looks at me. "Do you understand what you just said to me?"  
  
I stare at him bewildered. I know what I said, but the idea of it blows me away. I knew that I cared about Mac, I knew there was some weird unbreakable bond, but I had no idea the extent. For a minute a part of me insists that it's all some mistake. That I was caroused by the good doctor into saying the words, but the other part of my mind fights back and I realize that no amount of denial is going to wipe the slate. "I, uh, I didn't realize."  
  
Doctor Knight smiles at me knowingly. "Don't worry, most of my patients are rendered speechless after a profound discovery. It's amazing how we are able to hide and deny even the most wonderful and most obvious of feelings. You've known since the day you first met her hundreds of years ago, and yet you have yet to resolve these feelings. I am assuming that over the lives something always happened to rip her from you, or she from you, prematurely and now the both of you are scared that it will happen again. Thus resulting in yours, and I'm assuming her, denial of the deep feelings that you share, feelings that have transcended time.  
  
"Forgive me for the ideology that I am about to present, and keep in mind this is not a recognized psychological theory of any sort. I believe that the lessons of life are much like Erik Erikson's 'Eight Stages of Human Development'. You see, each stage consists of a conflict that must be resolved before a person can move onto the next conflict that must be resolved. I believe that in each life we are presented with a conflict that we must resolve in a positive fashion, if we fail to do so we relive life in different settings until it can be resolved in the way that is most beneficial. Every life that is resolved teaches us an important lesson to carry on to the next. At the end of our lives we will have accumulated the knowledge and learned the important lessons that will allow us to live out eternity to its full potential."  
  
I stare at the doctor trying to absorb this psychological analogy, and I realize at that moment that he's right. That until I resolve my feelings for Mac and love her in the way that only two people who are meant to be together can, I will be reliving this lesson over and over. And, from what I can tell, it's about damn time that I learn the lesson that I've been working toward for the last two hundred some years.  
  
I stand quickly and take the doctors hand. "Thank you Doctor Knight, you've made things so clear. I need to go."  
  
The Doctor smiles widely and nods. "Good luck Commander Rabb, and remember, love is the one feeling that shouldn't scare you, because no matter what the result, heart break or eternal bliss, having that feeling just once makes it all worth it."  
  
I smile, nod, and leave, a bit of a bounce in my walk. Finally I understand what's been nagging at me my whole life. It wasn't my father's death or loosing Diane under such horrible circumstances. Those things were a necessity to get me where I am today, to make me the person that I am so I could accomplish this life's goal. If it weren't for my father dying, I may have never joined the Navy, became an aviator, crashed and been assigned to JAG. If not for Diane's death I may have remained with her and lived in a nice picket fence house with our 2.5 children and a dog.  
  
Without the heartache I may not be as strong as I am, but I think in some ways it backfired. I fear commitment, and I know that these things worsened the ailment I now know has been there all along, a result of lives spent loosing the one thing that meant the most to me.Mac. I've lost her to disease, to other men, to pride and I feared that in the end that would always be the case, and why put my heart on the line only to have it crushed? I hid from her, blaming the fear on the events of this life, and realize now how impractical it all is, that the doctor is right. It's stupid to sit by and let love, the most wonderful of feelings, slip by because of fear. Even that one moment of knowing is well worth it.  
  
I walk off of the elevator and into the bullpen, my mind going over the day's events and what I have learned. Though things are still falling into place, I am still having a hard time with admitting the fact that I love Mac. It's just so.sudden and a part of me is still hell bent on sheltering me from any sort of pain. I walk quickly toward my office, still not willing to subject myself to the office's scrutiny when I hear people talking across the bullpen. I can't help but look up.  
  
I see her standing there, talking to Bud, and I freeze. I know I am staring openly at her, my mouth slightly agape with shock. As I lock eyes with her over Bud's shoulder I see all of the renditions of her overlapping her current outline. It's like the descriptions you hear of people who are seeing their lives flash before their eyes, and it's all over in only a few seconds. It's in those few seconds that I encounter and face my worst fear, my love for her. I can't move, my heart seems to have stopped beating, my lungs no longer able to take in air, and my stomach seems to have released a flock of butterflies. All the pent up feelings of a lifetime, of lifetimes, have surfaced in full force and I feel faint.  
  
I stand there, staring blatantly at her for more than a minute when I hear a voice next to me softly ask: "Commander Rabb, are you all right sir?"  
  
I tare my eyes away and look over at the person next to me, still stunned and dizzy. I see Harriet's concerned face and realize that the bullpen has gone silent. I look from her to Mac, and back again. I know I look like a deer in the headlights, I feel like a deer in the headlights. "Ye.yeah Harriet, fine." I manage to stutter out. I make a quick turn and duck into my office, shutting the door and pulling the shades.  
  
Once I am safe I look at my clock. 1630 and no more appointments scheduled. I grab my cover where I hastily threw it on the chair while I was pulling the shades, my suitcase, and to substantiate my story I grab a couple of files off my desk. I don't know what's in them, nor do I care. I just need to get the hell out of here.  
  
I exit my office, and I can sense the stares, but I pay no attention as I walk quickly to the elevators. Luckily, one is just heading down so I jump in, hit the close button before anyone else can enter, and let out a sigh of relief. I lean against the far wall, trying to compose myself. I had no idea that love was so scary. That was by far the worst and the best feeling I had ever had, odd how that can be, but it's true. I just don't know what to do.  
  
On my way home I stop at the liquor store down the street from me and grab a fresh bottle of bourbon. I know that it's not healthy to drown ones feelings in liquor, so I decide that I'm not so much drowning my feelings as much as I am trying to find liquid courage. I make it home in record time and slam the door behind me. I set the bottle down and proceed to my room, stripping as I go, determine to get comfortable. I grab a pair of Navy sweatpants out of my drawer along with a very faded gray t-shirt, the logo long gone.  
  
I make my way back to the living room and grab the bottle off the counter and walk the short distance to my adjoined living room. I sit on the couch, bottle in one hand, stereo remote in the other. I turn on some light jazz as I take a swig straight up from the bottle. It stings and I welcome it.  
  
I look up and am confronted by a picture of Mac and I. How am I going to deal with this? After years of pushing aside emotions how does one learn to accept and confront them with out being scared shitless? It's all fine and dandy when the person isn't around, it's easy to say that you love them, but the moment you see them everything ceases to exist. That everything apparently includes involuntary, albeit necessary, life sustaining functions.  
  
I know now that every time I see her I'm going to have this extraordinary giddy feeling, so how does one put on the confident fly-boy air that everyone, including myself, is used to? I sigh, take another swig, and continue to stare at the picture. I don't know if I can do this, I can only assume that these overwhelming anxious feelings will subside and I will be able to act somewhat normal around her, but what do I do in the meantime? Is there anyway to practice the outward calm?  
  
For God's sake, I'm a courtroom lawyer!! Calm and collected is my personal mantra, the thing that I am proficient at. Sure I get on my crusades here and there, but somehow I have managed to never really feel anything as intense as this. I wonder what I would be like if something happened to Mac. I remember the time she was on TDY with Gunny and the incident at the embassy. I know I was irritable, but now that I've admitted my feelings I'm pretty sure I would be worse than the Admiral on the most terrible of days.  
  
I once again quench my unease with a shot of warm liquor and pick up the picture. I stare at it, just looking at her induces the feelings that over ran me in the bullpen. Maybe if I expose myself to it long enough I will be able to overcome it and be my cool, collected self. Well, at least cool and collected enough to talk to her without damn near fainting.  
  
But my aim of being able to complete a sentence in her presence is only one of my problems. How am I going to explain this change of heart? How do I tell her about my dreams and the trip to Doctor Knight's office? She has her visions, so I'm sure she's a bit more open minded, but it's still so.odd. What am I supposed to say? "Hey Mac, I've been having these dreams, and thanks to some Past Life Regression I have come to realize that I love you."  
  
Right. I think that might get me committed, especially with her knowledge of my fall last week. It was hard to hide seeing as I had a huge lump on the back of my head. Or worse she'll laugh it off, thinking I'm delusional from said head wound. This all seemed so much easier in Doctor Knight's office, so clear. Maybe I should have asked him how one confronts the person that they have subconsciously loved for over two hundred years. Maybe I should just tell her I love you.but that might seem forced, and I don't want her to doubt my sincerity. I take another long swig. I'm going to be wasted within the next five minutes if I keep this up. Wouldn't that be something, confronting Mac, my heart on the line, in some drunken stupor? Yeah, that would add to my credibility.  
  
I know!! Maybe I just need some advice from someone who has been in love, someone who's been in my situation.but who is there? I realize that the only people who actually have significant others are Bud and Sturgis, and neither are a candidate for being a blind fool who's avoided the obvious. I scratch that idea.  
  
I walk back to my room towards the bathroom; the liquor seems to be going straight through me. As I'm walking through I notice the clock, 1850. I relieve myself and as I'm walking back to my bottle of bourbon I notice a card lying on my bed. It's a business card for Doctor Knight. I stare at the foreign object in wonderment. I don't remember ever getting a business card from him, nor did I take anything out of my slack's pockets while I was changing.  
  
I pick it up, and look it over. On the back is a hand written note. "Feel free to call," it said, and underneath was a phone number. I'm not only curious, but have a feeling that I just shouldn't question fate, so I grab my phone and sit back on my couch. I dial the number and wait.  
  
"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line is familiar.  
  
"Doctor Knight?" I ask hesitantly, still confused with the sudden and mysterious presence of this card.  
  
"This is he. Commander Rabb? Is that you?" He asks, somewhat amazed.  
  
"Yes sir. I uh, I came across your business card and decided to call."  
  
"Is there a problem?" He asks, sounding as confused as I feel, this is obviously his home phone and he wasn't expecting my call.  
  
"Yes, I, well I'm stuck. I felt much better after our session, but when I went back to work and saw Mac, things went bad. I.I felt like my heart had stopped, I couldn't breath."  
  
The doctor chuckled on the other end, and I am stunned into silence. Are doctor's aloud to laugh at their patients? "The initial feelings associated with love have decided to manifest themselves at long last. How are you holding up?" He asks, just the right amount of concern imbedded in his words.  
  
"I'm doing horrible!!" I say, almost wining. I regain control and speak again. "The minute I saw her I froze. I swear I nearly fainted, and on the way home I picked up a bottle of alcohol. Now I'm not only confused, but buzzed. I don't know what to do! Even looking at her picture causes me to loose control."  
  
"I take it you didn't have the opportunity to talk to her. Do you want my advice?"  
  
"Yes!" I say in desperation.  
  
I hear him clear his throat and I consider grabbing a notepad and pen off a nearby desk, but then realize how ridiculous that is. It isn't like this is my first date, for God's sake I have never had this much trouble telling a woman anything. Some brave aviator I am. I return my attention to the doctor as he starts to speak.  
  
"Commander Rabb, you're situation is very simple, tell her how you feel. I know, it doesn't sound at all simple, but it really is. You don't have to be gallant or suave, all you have to do is tell her the truth, tell her what you told me. That from the first time you saw her, you knew you were meant to be. That you've always loved her, and it just took a good knock on the head to make it glaringly apparent."  
  
I look at the phone in shock, "Wha.but how do I gather the courage to do it? When I see her I freeze."  
  
"You're in the armed forces Commander, and as they say in boot camp, suck it up. Pretend this is a mission that must be completed, a mission that, should you fail, will result in the destruction of two lives that could have potentially been saved, could have been well spent in the search of a deeper meaning."  
  
I just stare at the wall in front of me flabbergasted. I nod my response. "O..okay. Okay I can do that."  
  
"Yes, Commander, you can. Now, go do it. Good night." And with those final words of encouragement the doctor hangs up and I am left stunned. Could it be that easy? I think about it for a moment and decide to hell with it, I'm going to tell her. So I stutter, maybe she'll find it endearing. If nothing else, at least she will know, at least I won't be obsessing about it, avoiding her. I grab my jacket and call a cab. I've drank a little too much for me to drive.  
  
The cab finally arrives and I spend my time trying to give myself a pep talk and practice what I want to say. The cabbie finally pulls up to Mac's house and I clammer out, give the cabbie his money and a nice tip, and I head up to her apartment. I stand outside her door, trying to gather what little courage I seem to have. Finally, I make myself knock. I wait a few seconds, and hastily decide that she must not be home. Just as I am turning to leave the door opens.  
  
"Harm!" She says a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"  
  
I look at her, my mouth again in that stunned, incoherent position. "I, uh, I, uh came to see you."  
  
She looks at me a little funny. "Are you all right?"  
  
I'm still staring at her, dumbfounded. She steps out of her door a little and puts a hand on my shoulder and I jerk a little as the electricity shoots through me. "Uh, yeah, I'm okay. Just, um, can we go inside?" I ask nervously.  
  
She nods, looking at me in wonderment, but says nothing as she leads the way in. She motions for me to sit on the couch, so I do. I fiddle with my hands nervously as I stare at her as she walks into the kitchen. I know I've noticed it before, but she has a really nice ass, and in my current state it's the only thing that I seem to be able to comprehend. She walks back and hands me a bottle of water, sitting next to me. "So Harm, what do you need to see me about?"  
  
I nearly choke on my water. I don't know why, it's a perfectly logical question. I make myself swallow and I try not to look in her eyes. "I.I need to tell you something."  
  
"Does it have anything to do with what happened today?" She asks quietly, and I can't help but look. I quickly tare my eyes away before I loose focus.  
  
"Yes." I pause trying to think of what to say.  
  
"You looked like you saw a ghost." She says, I can feel her stare and I push it away.  
  
"Not a ghost, just the truth." I say cryptically but honestly, keeping my eyes on the bottle of water I hold in front of me.  
  
"The truth? What truth?"  
  
I can feel myself loosing control and I take a deep breath. "The truth about how I feel." I say quickly. "How I feel about you, us. I.I love you Mac, since the first time I saw you I knew I loved you, but I didn't realize it until now. I was just so scared, scared that it would never work, that something or someone would step in-between us and that starting anything would only serve to hurt me in a way that I could never handle. But then I realized something. The chance to feel true love, the kind that only two people who are meant to be can feel, is worth it even if it's only for a minute." I look into her eyes as I gather force, my eyes pleading with her. "Love is the one thing we shouldn't fear, no matter the end result. I don't want to be scared anymore Mac, I don't want to hide from the one person that can make me whole, the only person that I can love."  
  
Now it's her turn to sport the staggered look. She looks from me to the bottle of water I hold, then back to me. I can see her gulp, and for a minute I swear I see fear in her eyes. "I...I, um, are you sure?" She asks me.  
  
I look at her incredulously. "Of course I'm sure. With all the courage it took me to say that I had damned well better be sure."  
  
She looks at me and for a minute I can't tell whether she is going to cry or smile, frankly, I'd prefer the smile. Instead she covers her mouth and begins to cry. Damn. "What's wrong Mac?"  
  
She looks at me wide eyed and finally takes her hand away from her mouth. "I've been waiting a lifetime for you to say that." She whispers in awe.  
  
I take her in my arms, cradling her head against my chest. "It's taken me longer than that to say them." I whisper. "We were always meant to be"  
  
"Always and forever," she mumbles against my chest. Little does she know how true that statement is, and now that I have her and have managed to muster the courage to tell her what I've been waiting centuries to, I'll never let her go.in this life or the next.  
  
The End 


End file.
